


Lily Knows

by Sapphyredragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2018-09-30 11:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10161971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphyredragon/pseuds/Sapphyredragon
Summary: What if Lily had a premonition?  Watch as Harry is raised by a half-blood Slytherin mother and a politician muggle father.  Smart!Independent!Harry and Manipulative!Dumbles





	1. The Premonition

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything you recognize is not mine. It all belongs to JK. This applies to all chapters.

AN: This is my first fic, I've been reading them for ages now and this story has been knocking around in my brain for a while. I have the basic skeleton of the story written out, but suggestions are welcome. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows for S'mores. My apologies on the lack of text the first attempt... I haven't actually uploaded anything to this site before. That being said, I just cut and pasted this chapter, if anyone can let me know how to upload an actual file, it'd be appreciated, cause apparently I did it wrong the first time. Ciao!

o 0 o

“Stand aside you stupid girl. Avada Kedavra.”

Lily Potter sat bolt upright, breathing as though she had just run a marathon. This was the third time this week that she had been woken by that particular dream. “Tempus,” Lily whispered. Smoky letters glowed in front of her face, 3:14 a.m. October 12, 1981. She glanced over at her husband, James, whose deep sleep appeared not to have been disturbed by her desperate lunge to consciousness. James lay facing her, his face deceptively calm, lacking the worry lines that, recently, had plagued his waking hours. His arm rested on her waist, hand curled protectively around her hip bone and his usually artfully mussed raven hair stuck out at wild angles. 

Lily had a feeling that this dream was not your general garden variety nightmare, and as she lay back down and stared at the ceiling she began to plan. There was no telling how much longer she had on this earth and she needed to make sure that there were contingency plans in place for the care of her 15-month-old son.

o 0 o

Lily looked at the parchment in her hand, it lacked much in the way of substance, but what words were written made her breathe a little easier:

Lily, 

Of course I will.

Stephanie

Over the past week, Lily had been examining her dreams from all angles. Dreams which had expanded to include the disturbing image of Albus Dumbledore leaving her baby on the doorstep of her sisters house with nothing but a note. In the dreams, Harry did not look much older than he did now, which lead Lily to believe that if her premonitions were true that she and James would be among the dearly departed sooner rather than later. Loathe though she was to admit defeat, Lily had begun making arrangements for her sons care and protection after her death. Now that she had a skeleton of a plan, she needed to contact Petunia.

o 0 o

Petunia Dursley was scrubbing the counters of her already pristine kitchen, she had just put her perfect little angel down for his nap and was now endeavoring to make her home fit for the important company her husband was bringing home with him that evening. 

Tink. Petunia cocked her head, the mail had already been delivered, so what had been slipped into her mail slot? Petunia curiously, and cautiously, walked around the corner into the entry way. She had a curious sense of foreboding about whatever had just been delivered. Petunia picked up the letter that was sitting innocently on her welcome mat and began to tremble slightly. She knew that handwriting, although she had not seen it for some years. It belonged to her sister.

Petunia sat down at her kitchen table with a thump, staring at the letter as though it might explode. Then, nodding to herself, she grabbed the letter and made to toss it in the garbage bin, unopened. To her distress, the letter floated out of the bin and began talking to her in her sisters voice.

“Tuney, I know how much magic makes you uncomfortable, so I've charmed this letter to talk to you ONLY if you attempt to pitch it unread. I wouldn't be bothering you but this is a life-and-death situation.   
“I've told you about the madman who has been going around trying to take over the wizarding world, remember? Well, James and I have been targeted personally. You remember when we were kids how I could sense when bad things were going to happen? Well, I've been having a recurring dream where the madman finds us and kills James and I. I don't know how, but it seems that our son will survive the attack. However, I keep seeing him dropped at your house in the middle of the night.

“Perhaps this premonition is simply the act of an overwrought and highly stressed mind, but I wanted to put some plans into place for Harry's protection if they're not. If, one morning, you awaken to find my son on your doorstep, please PLEASE don't take him into your house. I won't worry you with specifics, but if he crosses your threshold, he may never be able to leave. Go to a restaurant and call the US embassy, ask for Stephanie Grey. She will take him and raise him.

“Thank you so much, Tuney. I love you. Lily.”

With that, the letter drifted back into the bin. Petunia glared at the letter and scoffed. As if anything that had to do with the world that had stolen her sister could effect her.

o 0 o

Stephanie Grey was sitting at her desk filing paperwork for her husband Marshall, the US ambassador currently stationed in London, England. However, at the end of the year the couple were being transferred to Japan and Stephanie was getting all in order for her successor. Stephanie sighed and got up to look out the window of her office, focusing on her reflection. A pretty, young blonde with wavy waist length hair and sea green eyes looked back at her. 

Looking at herself, Stephanie appeared to be nothing more or less than a typical muggle secretary. But Stephanie was as far from normal as possible. Stephanie was a fully qualified half-blood witch, having completed her training at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry five years previously. In school, Stephanie had been sorted into Slytherin and had two best friends for the greater part of her education: Severus Snape and Lily Evans. She and Lily had remained close even after Severus' amazing faux pas in their fifth year.

Upon graduation, Stephanie discovered that the British wizarding world was really not that safe a place for a former Slytherin who had no interest in blood politics, so she , like a good Slytherin, retreated to the American wizarding world where Voldemort had not reached. She had happily stayed away from all things British until three years ago when she, quite literally ran into her now husband. 

Marshall had been home in America on vacation from his post as the US ambassador to the UK when the car he was driving was rear ended by a very embarrassed Stephanie. Although she was quite obviously younger than Marshall's 32 years, he was instantly drawn to her and now, three years later they were getting ready to celebrate their second wedding anniversary. 

Even though Stephanie had been back in England for almost two years, she had not revived any contact with the wizarding world, satisfying herself with trips to the continent for any magical needs. But now, it seemed, the wizarding world had found her.   
Stephanie remembered the hastily scribbled note she had received a week earlier from her old best friend. It merely stated that Lily had a premonition that she and James were going to die and would Stephanie be so kind as to raise Harry for her? How Lily had found her at the US Embassy was a mystery to Stephanie, one she assumed that she would never solve. Naturally, Stephanie answered Lily in the affirmative after discussing the matter with her husband.

Stephanie was abruptly pulled from her musing by a tapping on the window at her elbow. The nondescript brown owl swooped into the room dropping the letter held in its beak and immediately leaving the way it had entered. She walked over to her desk and opened the scroll only to discover a very cryptic note from Lily.

October 27, 1981

Stephanie, 

How is married life treating you? James and I have been married for four years now. I wish you could have come. Do you remember our catch phrase in school? I think I'm losing it.

Lily

Stephanie cocked her head at the note that didn't take up more than ¼ of the parchment it was written on and then grinned. Flicking her wrist and dropping her wand into her hand, she tapped the parchment and said, “Of all the Slytherin tendencies to have.” Suddenly the letter was much longer and made much more sense.

Stephanie, 

I know that you'll figure this out, it's not actually that ingenious, but no one knew our phrase except for us. Anyhow, on to business. I don't know how much you've kept up on the different elements of our society, but it's going badly for the good guys right now. James is an auror and I'm a charms mistress. As if that weren't enough to get us targeted, apparently there's a prophesy that concerns Harry, the details of which I am not privy to. Voldemort has heard it and is now after us harder than before.   
James and I are currently in hiding under a Fidelus Charm with Peter as the secret keeper. Sirius would have been the obvious choice, so he's acting as a decoy. That said, if my premonition comes true something has failed epically. James trusts Dumbledore explicitly, as you well know, but I've been having doubts about his sincerity recently. We have, on multiple occasions expressed that under no circumstances is Harry to be put with my muggle sister. She is ill equipped to handle as powerful a child as Harry will be. However, that is where you will find him after our deaths. I'm sure of it, placed there by Dumbledore himself.

Now, on to more interesting things that you will need to know when raising Harry. Harry has several bonds on his power at this point, this is because until he is old enough to express himself there is the very real chance that he could blow up the house in a temper if his power were left unbound. As such, we had the goblins bind him as their bonds are much safer than some wizard ones, and I trust them more to not sell the information. Harry is also a metamorphmagus, these powers are bound as well—this more to keep anyone from knowing, I let my hidden inner Slytherin out to play. 

Now, on to my desires for Harry's upbringing. Simply love him as your own, have your husband teach him the delicate workings of the political beast, and train him up to be the leader I have a feeling he is meant to be. I want him to be able to defend himself—the prophesy is about Harry, not James and I. I know you will do right by me.

Lastly, Petunia Dursley, my sister. I've written her a letter which details what to do if Harry should materialize on her doorstep in the future. I told her to not enter the house with him and call you immediately. I've enclosed in this letter a prepaid credit card that has 500,000 pounds on it that is to be used for their relocation. Tell them not to take anything that can be replaced.

All my love,

Lily

Stephanie smiled sadly at the letter and tucked it and the credit card into her purse before closing her office and locking it for the night. She hoped the Lily's premonition was wrong, but began making preparations for the likelihood that it wasn't.


	2. The Baby

  
Author's notes: Harry goes to Stephanie  


* * *

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine.

A.N.: Thanks for the reviews. Not all my posts will be this quick, but I will attempt to keep them fairly regular. More reviews = faster postings, though. Chapters will get longer as I go on, but for now I'm just trying to get back into the swing of writing for fun.

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Stephanie sighed as she waited for the coffee to finish perking, closing her eyes and hoping that the head ache, complements of last night's Halloween celebration, would soon fade and thanking Merlin that it was a Sunday. She smiled as Marshall drowsily stumbled into the kitchen, holding his head in his hands. While it was true that as a witch, Stephanie could probably whip up a hangover cure (or rather should have done before the party last night); however, unlike Lily and Severus potions had never been her forte. Additionally, such a cure would not have worked for Marshall as potions draw on ones own innate magic to work and Stephanie felt that if her husband were suffering then it was the least she could do to suffer with him. Therefore it was understandable that she did not initially recognize the odd sight of owls flying during daylight hours as the precursor of the event she had been both anticipating and dreading. 

Once half the pot of coffee had been consumed both Stephanie and Marshall set forth to put the finishing touches on their remaining paperwork. This week would be their last at the US Embassy, Britain. Next week they were heading home to America for six weeks before taking up their post at the US Embassy in Japan. Stephanie had decided that, if Petunia Dursley had not contacted her by weeks end, she would simply look the woman up herself and leave her contact information.

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By Tuesday night, Stephanie was wondering if she shouldn't search out Petunia Dursley sooner rather than later. Owls had been spotted in droves during the day all week, even the news reporters were beginning to comment on this unusual phenomena. Stephanie, having an inkling of what this obvious breach of the Statute of Secrecy could mean, had slipped into the Leaky Cauldron that afternoon intending to purchase a copy of the Daily Prophet to see what all the commotion was about. She needn't have bothered. The interior of the bar was a jovial atmosphere, and patrons were discussing the events of the previous weekend, loudly. 

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o

“Three cheers for Parry Hotter!” one man in the back corner of the bar slurred. Although it obviously was not the first time this particular toast had been made, the surrounding wizards and witches all cheered raucously and raised their glasses.

Stephanie sidled up to the bar, ordered a butterbeer and pulled out her dusty Slytherin tendencies. Allowing the drunken wizards to fade into so much white noise, she focused her attention on a quiet, sober conversation taking place behind her.

“...be-named is really gone?”

“That's what they're saying. Strongest wizard in the world, my arse.” The second speaker scoffed, “Beaten by a child still in nappies.”

“What's to happen to the child?”

Just then a group of wizards came tumbling into the bar, loudly singing bawdy songs about the triumph of the “Boy-who-Lived” and breaking Stephanie's concentration. No matter, she had the answers that she needed. If Petunia Dursley had not contacted her by noon tomorrow, she would take matters into her own hands. If Stephanie had stayed for five more minutes, she would have heard those same wizards discussing “that vile Sirius Black” and how he had betrayed his best friend to his death. Unfortunately, she did not and would not be made aware of this “fact” for several years to come.

Wednesday, November 4, 1981, started out like any other day for one Petunia Dursley. She got up before the rest of the family and headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, set the tea kettle to boiling and went to retrieve the newspaper from the front gate where the lazy paperboy always left it. Petunia opened the front door and jumped back with a suppressed shriek. There, on her front porch, was a moses basket. Inside that moses basket was a pale blue blanket, the corner embroidered with a stylized “HP”, a tuft of black hair erupting from one end and a suspicious looking letter written on what Petunia recognized as parchment similar to that of Lily's letter from a few weeks prior. The handwriting, however, was not that of her sister. 

Remembering the ominous tone of Lily's letter, Petunia skirted around the edge of the basket, making sure not to touch it and hurried out to retrieve the day's newspaper. She returned to the kitchen, set the paper at Vernon's place at the table and swiftly headed upstairs. She needed to get that child away from her house quickly and quietly.

“Vernon.” Petunia whispered.

Vernon grunted and looked blearily up at his wife, Petunia took this as acknowledgement.  
“Vernon, the kettle's on, but we've run out of bacon. I'm off to the store. I will be back shortly.”  
Vernon grunted again and Petunia left the room, snagging the car keys as she went. Silently hoping that none of the neighbors had seen the abomination on her doorstep. 

Petunia grabbed a short length of rope out of the garage and pulled the car out to the curb. She had no idea what exactly those freaks considered a “threshold” but she was not going to voluntarily set that child down anywhere on her property, nephew or no. Quickly returning to her front porch, Petunia carefully threaded the rope through the handles of the moses basket, ensuring that no part of her body came into contact with any part of the child or his carrier and, holding it as far away from her as possible, set the basket in the back seat of the car. 

Petunia pulled into the local petrol station and up to the car-side pay phone and dialed.

“United States Embassy, how may I direct your call?”

“I need to speak to a Stephanie Grey,” Petunia said, with a small moue of disgust. 

“One moment please, I'll see if she is available,” the insufferably American voice on the other end of the line intoned. There was a soft click and Petunia was relegated to listening to sickeningly tinkling music for some minutes.

Just as Petunia was ready to throw the phone, thinking she was being ignored, there was another soft click and a voice came on the line, “This is Stephanie Grey, how may I help you?”

Petunia huffed, “This is Petunia Dursley, I have something for you and I would appreciate it if you would come collect it post haste.”

Stephanie sat up straighter, finally the woman had contacted her. “Mrs. Dursley, where do you want me to meet and when?”

“The car park of the Anglican Church in Little Whinging, Surrey. How long will it take you to get here?” Petunia snapped, glancing at the car park across the street.

“I can be there in five minutes Mrs. Dursley.”

Petunia shuddered at the reminder of the unnaturalness of the world that had taken her sister's life. It should be a half hours drive, in good traffic, to get to London's center. “Fine, be quick about it.” Petunia snarled, and dropped the phone into it's cradle.

In London, Stephanie rushed into her husband's office, “It's time, I'm going to pick him up and heading home. I'll be back around lunch.” Marshall nodded and she turned and virtually sprinted from the building. Petunia Dursley had not sounded like the kind of person that she wanted to leave her new son with for any length of time. 

With a snap, Stephanie materialized at the end of an alley two blocks from the church Mrs. Dursley had mentioned and swiftly made her way to the expensive looking car idling in the lot. 

Mrs. Dursley stepped out of the car and opened the back door, a put upon expression on her face. “There he is, I haven't touched him or the basket. Who knows what kinds of hocus pocus your kind put on it, and I won't have it soiling me. Take him and go.”

Stephanie stepped up to the car cast a silent finite, and reached in, withdrawing the moses basket and sleeping child. “Mrs. Dursley, I thank you for giving him to me. Your sister left something in my care for you,” Stephanie reached into her purse and pulled out the credit card that Lily had sent her. “This card has a substantial amount of money on it. It is to allow you and your family to relocate. There is enough on here to purchase and furnish a new home quite comfortably,” Stephanie paused, and seeing the hungry look on Mrs. Dursley's face, continued, “there are spells on this card that can tell if it has been used for its intended purpose, and if it is not the funds will be reclaimed, with interest” (although there were no such spells in existence.) “You are instructed to leave, taking only those things that cannot be replaced with you. The wizarding world, quite obviously knows where you live and, if you value your magic-free life, you will comply with you sister's last bequest.” Stephanie finished, thinking—and rightfully so—that the thought that a wizard could just show up on her doorstep would be enough to induce Mrs. Dursley into taking her family and relocating.

Mrs. Dursley held out her hand, “I wonder exactly how much my sister felt was 'enough' to uproot my family's entire life?” she said snidely.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, “500,000 pounds.” Mrs. Dursley choked, “Is that sufficient?”

Mrs. Dursley recovered herself and snatched the credit card, “It will do. Goodbye.” With that, Mrs. Dursley jumped into her car and took off, leaving Stephanie and Harry standing in the car park of the church.

Stephanie reached into the moses basket and pulled out the baby, who had yet to stir despite the commotion around him. Sleepy emerald eyes opened and looked into serene sea green ones. “Hello, Harry. I'm Stephanie and I'm going to take you to my home now, OK?” Stephanie wasn't sure how linguistically developed Harry was, but decided that he was old enough to understand her.

“Home?” Harry said. He then promptly stuck his thumb into his mouth and fell back asleep on her shoulder.

Stephanie smiled at him, glanced around to make sure she was not witnessed, levitated the letter that was in the basket into a conjured clear plastic bag and banished the basket. She then walked around to the far side of the church, checked for muggle presence and with a snap, Harry Potter left Little Whinging for good.


	3. The Goblins

  
Author's notes: Harry visits the Goblins  


* * *

Disclaimer: It's not mine.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 

Stephanie looked around her office one last time, ensuring she hadn't forgotten anything. She snapped off the light, picked up Harry from where he was being cooed at by her secretary and left the office for the last time.

“Marshall, I want to take Harry to Gringotts before we leave. Lily mentioned that there are some bonds on Harry that were placed by the goblins and I want to get the details, as well as make sure that Harry's inheritance will be taken care of until he is of age.” Stephanie glanced over at her husband as they were leaving the US Embassy.

“That's fine, Steph, we can head over there now.” Marshall grinned, “and perhaps you can take me somewhere wizarding for dinner.” Marshall had always been enthralled by anything magical, taking every opportunity to have Stephanie show him something new and amazing.

Stephanie smiled at her husband fondly, “Sure, honey, we'll find somewhere out of the way and have wizards fare for dinner.” Stephanie glanced down at the sleeping Harry in her arms, “Well, son, we're off to see some goblins.”

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 

Stephanie, Marshall and Harry stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, a blanket covering Harry, protecting him from prying eyes. The bar was not as busy as it had been when Stephanie had been in the previous Tuesday, but there were still quite a few patrons continuing to celebrate the downfall of you-know-who and toast the Boy-who-Lived. The couple hurried through the bar, and Stephanie tapped the bricks revealing the entry to Diagon Alley. Marshall gazed around in amazement at the sights revealed. Although they had been living in muggle London for years, this was the first time that Stephanie had taken Marshall into wizarding London.

The Alley was bustling with activity, and Stephanie made quick work to get to Gringotts, dragging her amazed husband with her. The interior of Gringotts was hushed, Stephanie's heels clicked and echoed around the cavernous white marble interior of the bank. She clicked her way over to an available goblin and waited patiently until the goblin acknowledged her.

“I would like to speak to someone about my ward's finances.”

The goblin bared his teeth in a macabre parody of a smile, “And you ward would be...?”

Stephanie glanced around and dropped her voice, “Harry Potter.”

The goblin glanced at her, then at the child she held. “One moment, I will see if Ironclaw is available to speak to you.” The goblin disappeared behind the desk, leaving Stephanie and Marshall to await the goblin's pleasure.

Ten minutes later, a different goblin appeared at their side, “Madam, Ironclaw will see you now. You will follow me.” The goblin turned abruptly and lead Stephanie, Marshall and Harry through a nondescript door and down a hallway to an ornate door. Stephanie was unsure, but she thought that the goblins were being a little more accommodating than usual. The goblin opened the door and ushered the Greys into the office that was prominently occupied by an imposing desk and ornate chair. “You will wait here. Ironclaw will be with you in a moment.”

Stephanie and Marshall sat down in the chairs facing the desk, Harry looking around with big green eyes and his thumb firmly placed in his mouth. A moment later, the doors opened again and a goblin entered, sitting behind the desk. “What can Gringotts do for you today, madam?” The goblin asked after an assessing glance at the couple, apparently dismissing Marshall as unimportant.

“My name is Stephanie Grey, this is my husband Marshall. Lily Potter sent me a letter shortly before her death, asking me to care for and raise Harry should anything happen to she and James. Harry came into my care a few days ago. Lily's letter also mentioned that Harry had some goblin bonds on his power and I wanted to find out exactly what those were, the limitations, if any, these bonds have and when I should expect to return to Gringotts to have them removed. 

“Additionally, I would like an evaluation of little Harry to ensure that there are no lingering ill effects from the attack earlier this week. Lastly, I would like to ensure that Harry's inheritance will be well taken care of until he comes of age. My husband and I are leaving the British Isles, he is a muggle ambassador and we have been reassigned to Japan effective the beginning of the new year. I myself am not that good with investments and am fairly divorced from the wizarding world, and as such I would not be the best person to oversee Harry's finances.”

The goblin eyed her for a moment, “Very well, Lady Grey. I am glad you saw fit to come in, we had actually sent out several owls to Lord Potter in your care, they all returned undeliverable. Lady Potter also saw fit to inform Gringotts of her arrangements, we received a letter from her only a few days before her death. In this letter, she specified that none but yourself should receive information about young Lord Potter's inheritance and disposition.” The goblin retrieved a parchment from a drawer in his desk. “Lady Grey, before we go any further, I will need to confirm your identity. Simply place three drops of blood onto this parchment.” 

Stephanie eyed the parchment, took the proffered blade and pierced her thumb, swiftly placing three drops of blood onto the parchment before healing the cut. “Does this test do anything other than confirm my identity as Stephanie Grey?”

“Yes, Lady Grey, this is a heritage test, it will confirm your identity, but will also tell your ancestors.” The goblin glanced down at the parchment. “It is confirmed, you are who you claim and Lord Potter is your rightful ward. Lady Grey, were you aware that you are descended from Salazar Slytherin? Not from his eldest son, so you have no claim on the Slytherin title, however you are descended from him just the same.”

Stephanie grinned. “I was unaware of that, but it is fascinating news. Now, about the bonds on Harry?”

“Yes, as I was saying, Lady Potter sent a letter to us, included in this letter were two more letters, one each written by she and Lord Potter to be presented to young Lord Potter when he returns prior to his first year at Hogwarts. Additionally, he will receive his heir's ring at that time. The bonds that the Potters had placed on young Lord Potter are simple ones. The first being the bond on his magical powers, this bond does not cut off access to his magic, as young Lord Potter grows he will be able to feel his magic, and should you choose to teach him how to look inside at his core, he will be able to see all of his magic as well. What this bond does is limits the power that young Lord Potter can put behind any accidental—or intentional—magic he does. Simply put, his spells will not be as powerful as they would were his magic not bound. 

“Other bonds placed by wizards actually cut off access to parts of the magical core which can lead to severe magical backlash when the bonds are removed if the wizard is powerful enough, or has enough magic bound. The bond that is currently in place on young Lord Potter makes his magical output approximately 45% of what it would be were he not bound. As he grows and his core matures, that percentage will not change. As to having the bond removed, I recommend that you return to Gringotts—any branch of Gringotts, not only the one here in London—periodically and have the bonds adjusted as young Lord Potter ages and obtains more control over himself so that when he attains school age the bonds will be entirely removed.

“The second bond that the Potters had placed on young Lord Potter was a binding on his metamorphmagus powers. We recommend this bond as a short term solution, as if the child does not have access to these powers, he will not learn to control them. Lord and Lady Potter expressed the desire for this particular power to not be revealed to the general public and I feel that, especially as you are leaving Britain, removing that bond today is recommended. 

“Nextly, as to young Lord Potter's inheritance. The main Potter vaults have been sealed and will remain so until young Lord Potter reaches the age of fifteen. This is so he can have two years with a financial advisor prior to attaining his majority in which to learn how to manage the vaults himself. Until that time, I will be overseeing his current investments. I have been the goblin in charge of the Potter vaults for several generations now and I pride myself on the financial gains that the Potters have attained under my guidance. Currently, I receive 5% of any returns on investments in my charge. Any monies attained through the investments are either reinvested or placed into the main Potter vault. 

“Young Lord Potter also has his trust vault, which is accessible to him at any time. I see that you have already made a withdrawal today, so I am sure you are aware of the extent of the holdings in that vault—“

“Wait, wait,” Stephanie interrupted the goblin, “I do apologize, but we have not accessed any vaults today. Harry was left with his maternal aunt by, we assume, Albus Dumbledore. Fortunately, Lily had contacted her sister and told her to contact me if this did happen. She delivered Harry to me with only a blanket and a letter.” Stephanie said, withdrawing the letter, still in it's plastic covering, from her handbag. “There was no vault key with him.”

The goblin gave Stephanie a piercing gaze. “Very well, the amount withdrawn from the trust vault was not substantial, only 5,000 galleons, and as the key was used, there is no way to track who made the withdrawal.” The goblin reached for another parchment and wrote something on it, placing it into a bin where it promptly disappeared. “All keys for all Potter vaults have been recalled and access has been removed to all but yourself with a blood test. Additionally, the keys for all Potter properties have been recalled. It appears that there are a few properties that are currently occupied, what is your wish for those occupying these properties?”

Stephanie considered, “How long have the properties been occupied for?”

“All properties that are currently occupied have been occupied for at least one year or more.”

“Allow them to remain, it is likely that those in the properties were allowed by Lily and James. We have no need of the properties at present, so those living in them are welcome to stay. Are the properties rented, or are the families staying free of charge?”

“It appears that most are rentals, however one property, a small cottage that sits in the middle of 200 acres outside of Nice, is occupied by one Remus Lupin and there is no rental charge.”

“He may stay, he was a friend and brother to James.”

“Very good. Next, in her letter, Lord and Lady Potter expressed a desire for you to blood adopt young Lord Potter, if you so desire. This will protect both him and yourself from any outside interference into your custody of young Lord Potter. By blood adopting him, you will not be replacing any influence or inheritance from either the Lord or Lady Potter, but simply adding yourself into the mix. Now, while you consider this, let's make sure our young Lord Potter has no lingering effects from the attack.” The goblin pulled another parchment from his desk drawer. “This will require three drops of young Lord Potter's blood.”

Stephanie looked at Harry, who had been looking around the office in fascination. “Harry, we need to take a little blood from you, it will hurt for only a second, okay?”

Harry focused on Stephanie and then the goblin, “Owie?”

“Only a little one, love. Can I see your foot honey?”

Harry kicked a little foot, “Little owie?”

“Yes honey, little owie.” Stephanie swiftly snagged Harry's little foot and the goblin almost painlessly retrieved the required blood. Harry had big tears in his eyes, and Stephanie quickly healed the hurt and cooed over the toddler. “See, all done Harry. That's my big boy, no more owie.”

Harry sniffed, “No more owie?”

“No more owie, honey, all done.” Marshall smiled.

The Grey's attention was caught by the growl of the goblin. “Is there a problem Ironclaw?”

“Not for long, Lady Grey. Young Lord Potter has had further bonds placed on him. This time a wizard bond that restricts his power to 25%, that particular bond, combined with the bonds currently on him would effectively make him a squib. And when the bond were removed, the magical backlash would be very dangerous for him. As this bond has been in place for a very short time, there will be no ill effects. There is a bond that is designed to restrict his attention span, this would effectively keep him from reaching his potential educationally, this will also be easy to remove. Also, there is a ward to redirect any owls sent to young Lord Potter, which, because of his recent conquest I assume there will be much fan mail. This particular ward will refuse any simple letter, however any gifts are redirected to Hogwarts School. This explains why our owls were unable to reach you earlier this week. I would advise leaving this ward alone, it is doing no harm, in fact it is helping. Because of this ward you will not be inundated with letters from fans and enemies alike. Lastly, there is a sliver of the fiend attached to young Lord Potter's scar. There is some sort of protective magic keeping the sliver of the fiend from interacting with young Lord Potter, however it should have been banished! 

“This is indicative of a magic most foul. We had suspected that the fiend had dabbled in such magics, another sliver of his soul was found to be in an artifact that was stored in one of our vaults. It was, of course, destroyed, however this means that the fiend is not gone for good.”

“By 'fiend' you mean you-know-who, correct?” Stephanie shuddered. She had hoped that the prophesy had been fulfilled—what ever it said. Unfortunately, it appeared that Harry's destiny still awaited.

“Yes, naturally, we will remove the fiend from young Lord Potter, it also appears that the fiend is also siphoning a small amount of young Lord Potter's power to sustain itself. Now have you made a decision concerning the blood adoption?”

Stephanie looked at Marshall, he nodded. “Yes, I will, how do we do this? Will Marshall also be blood adopting Harry?”

“First we will remove the wizarding bonds and the fiend from young Lord Potter, then it is a simple potion that you will add your blood to and can be spelled into young Lord Potter's stomach. As to if Sir Grey will be adopting young Lord Potter as well, that is up to you. Come, follow me, we will retire to the ritual room to remove the bonds and the fiend.” 

Ironclaw guided Stephanie, Marshall and Harry deeper into the bank. They entered a circular room which had runes inscribed in a circle on the floor. “Sir Grey, if you will retire to the anteroom, nonessential persons cannot be in the room during the ritual as it might interfere. Lady Grey, if you will please sit in the center of the circle with young Lord Potter facing outward.”

Once Marshall had left the room, and Stephanie and Harry were in their places, the goblin continued, “Now, this should not hurt, but it may tickle a bit.” With that, the goblins that were in the room began chanting. At first nothing happened, but then, after a minute of goblin chanting there was an unearthly scream and a black mist poured from Harry's scar. Harry sat, startled and staring at the black mist. Suddenly, with a screech, the mist imploded and Harry began sniffling.

“All finished,” Ironclaw said as he came back over to the startled duo. “The fiend's sliver has been permanently banished. Now, for the blood adoption. Come, follow me.” Ironclaw, Stephanie and Harry joined Marshall in the anteroom where another goblin waited with a vial. “This is the blood adoption potion, Sir Grey, will you also be adopting young Lord Potter?” Ironclaw looked questioningly at Marshall.

“Most definitely.” Marshall affirmed.

“Well, then, please add seven drops of blood to the potion please, Lady Grey, you as well.” Once both parents had added their blood to the vial, Ironclaw waved his hand and the potion disappeared. “As young Lord Potter is so young, you may not see any immediate physical effects, but if there are to be any they should be visible in about two minutes.”

Once two minutes had passed, Stephanie examined Harry. There were only slight visible changes, Harry's eyes, once the deep forest green of emeralds, were now a few shades lighter, though not as light as her own sea green ones. Additionally, Harry's hair, which previously had stuck up at all angles, despite all intervention, and was a deep brown was now the deep almost purple black of Marshall's hair and as sleek as a raven's wing. Harry looked deep into Marshall's eyes and then giggled and his hair changed to a brilliant neon green.

Marshall smiled at his son, “Come on son, let's go home.” He looked at the goblins, “We will be in touch, most likely with the branch in Tokyo.”

“Very good, Sir Grey, Lady Grey, Lord Potter-Grey. May your gold always flow.” Ironclaw said as he escorted the Greys to the entrance hall of the bank.

Stephanie nodded back, “May your enemies fall before you.” With that the Greys walked out of the bank into the twilight of the Alley. “Marshall, do you mind if we skip the wizarding fare tonight? It's quite late and Harry here is quite tired, that took quite a bit longer than I expected. Additionally, I'm worried about someone recognizing Harry's scar, it seems that it is quite famous.”

“That's fine, Steph, but I expect wizards fare when we get home to America, deal? We should get home and to bed, our flight home leaves first thing in the morning. How are we going to keep regular muggles from noticing Harry, though?” Marshall waved his hand at Harry who was now sporting neon pink hair.

Stephanie laughed. “I'll cast a glamor on him so his hair will appear his natural raven black.”

Marshall smiled, “Very well, dear, let's get home.”


	4. The Japanese

  
Author's notes: The Japanese  


* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A.N.: Reading is good, Reviewing is awesome. Harry's younger years will probably take up 3 or 4 chapters, I'm just going to hit on the important parts, magically or to the story, of his childhood before Hogwarts. Sorry I took so long, my car breathed its last and I've spent a good portion of the week trying to work all that out. Additionally, I had to do my homework for the story so I do Japan justice, mundane locations are real.

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“...100, ready or not, here I come!”

Two year old Harry Potter-Grey giggled softly and looked around frantically for a good hiding spot. Jun was a very good looker and always found him fast when they played kakurenbo1. This time Harry wanted to be the last caught. Or better yet, not caught at all. On second thought, Harry considered, if no one ever found him he wouldn't know when it was time for snacks. So, last caught was the goal. Glancing up, Harry found the perfect hiding place in the crook of a tree, its leaves almost obscuring the crook from sight. Harry reached up to try and climb the tree but the branches were too high, he jumped but was still unable to get a hold on the branch. Now Harry was frustrated, he just wanted to get up in that crook so he could win for once, he wanted up in that tree now! 

Suddenly, Harry was sitting in the tree. He grabbed the branch tightly, it was much scarier up here than he'd thought it would be. How had he gotten up here, he wondered. Perhaps this was some of the onmyoudou that Satou-sensei could do. He had always been told that he was magical and that when he got older he would be able to do magic just like his mummy, but this was the first time he could remember doing anything that didn't involve changing his hair color. Mummy said that changing his hair, and body when he got older and had more control, was a special gift and a different kind of magic than what mummy and Satou-sensei used.

“Harry-kun, where are you?” A floated to him on the wind, Harry giggled softly, for a moment forgetting his little predicament. “Harry-kun, you can't hide from me, I'll find you!” The voice was closer now, and Harry looked down and saw the dark head of 8-year-old Tanaka Jun circling around the tree trunk below him. Not finding Harry, Jun wandered off to search over by the rock pile.

Harry smiled and settled more comfortably in to his crook to wait to be found. Even though he couldn't get down by himself, he knew that Satou-sensei could get him down. Fifteen minutes went by and Harry could hear the other children laughing over by the rock pile. Again, Jun's voice floated over to him.

“I'm not sure where Harry-kun could be. He's the only one I haven't found, and I've checked all his usual hiding spots, as well as any where else he could get.”

“Let's all look for him, then. He's the last that means that he wins.” Harry heard 6-year-old Saitou Takahiro suggest. Unable to help himself Harry laughed out loud. He had won, finally! “Shh! I hear him!”

“Harry-kun, where are you!” This time it was 10-year-old Hou Momko, she was one of Harry's favorite. She always read him a story when it was nap time.

Harry laughed, “Can't find me! I win!”

The group of children slowly drifted to where they thought Harry's voice was coming from and spread out looking in the bushes around the base of the tree. Harry giggled again, all the children looked around except Harry's bestest friend in the whole world Watanabe Ryouta, he looked up.

“Harry-kun is in the tree!” Ryouta cried.

Momko glanced up sharply. “Harry-kun, how did you get up in that tree?” 

“Don't know, but I win!”

Jun laughed, “Yes you do, Harry-kun. Can you get down or do I need to get Satou-sensei?”

Harry blushed, “Satou-sensei, te kudasai2.”

Momko was already heading to where Satou-sensei was sitting on a blanket playing with the youngest of their small group, nine-month-old Takahashi Ayaka, she of the flaming red hair. Satou-sensei glanced down at the group surrounding the tree trunk, handed Ayaka to Momko and headed over to the small circle of children. 

Satou-sensei looked up at Harry in his hiding place almost a meter over her head. “Harry-kun, I'm going to have to levitate you down.” She flicked her wand at Harry and he slowly drifted out of his crook and down to the grass. Once Harry was back on the ground, Satou-sensei looked at him sternly, “Now, Harry-kun, would you care to tell me how you got up into that tree?”

Harry looked down at his feet and mumbled, “...”

Satou-sensei squatted down so she was on Harry's level, “Harry-kun, do not mumble when you answer a question. When you are asked something you always stand straight and answer clearly and in a respectful tone. Now, I will ask you again, how did you get up in that tree?”

Harry kicked his feet, he knew that he was probably in trouble, but he needed to answer Satou-sensei. Summoning his courage, Harry straightened his shoulders and looked up at Satou-sensei then answered rapidly before his courage failed him, “I don't know, Satou-sama, we were playing kakurenbo and Jun-kun is a very good looker so I had to have a good hiding place and I couldn't find one and then I saw the crook of the tree but I couldn't reach it so I tried to jump but I still couldn't reach it and I really wanted to get up there because then I would win and then I was up there! I don't know how. Honest, Satou-sensei, I really don't!”

Satou-sensei laughed gently, “Breathe, Harry-kun. You are not in trouble, it sounds as if you have done guzen no maho3, it looks as though you may have apparated. This is very strong magikku for someone your age. We will have to tell your mother when she picks you up; but for now, it is time for snacks and then nap time for you young ones, and homework time for the older.”

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Stephanie sighed, another work day done and now it was time to go pick up Harry from Mahono Deikea, a small daycare for magical children run by Satou Asako. Satou Asako was an older witch who had tragically lost her husband and young son many years ago. To help her move on from her loss, and give her something to do, Satou Asako had opened a small daycare. There were only seven children that Satou Asako cared for, including Harry; although Harry was only there three days per week. Fortunately, the English war was not well known here in Japan, so it was unlikely that Harry's name would be recognized and his location reported to less than desirable persons.

Although Stephanie had hesitated at the thought of going to work after she and Marshall had adopted Harry almost one year earlier, Marshall had pointed out that it would be good for Harry to interact with children his own age, and a Japanese daycare would help him learn about the Japanese culture and language. Indeed, almost 10 months after moving to Tokyo, Harry was speaking Japanese like he was born to it.

Stephanie hurried down the street to the nearest apparition point and with a crack she appeared outside the wards at the end of the drive of the home of Satou Asako where she ran Mahono Deikea. The house sat at the end of a kilometer long driveway edged by cherry trees that were, with the aid of magic, perpetually in bloom. The house itself was a moderate sized building that contained a very large living room which was where the children played on poor weather days, when the weather was nice, however, the children would be found any number of places in the back garden, playing any number of games that their minds have come up with. The entire property covered 2 square kilometers and was protected by wards that not only kept those not keyed to the wards out, but also kept the children in unless they were accompanied by their parent.

Stephanie smile as she saw Harry running around on his chubby legs chasing one of the older children and being chased by Watanabe Ryouta, who had fast become Harry's best friend since moving to Tokyo. Harry's hair was cycling through colors in his excitement, at two he was only able to control his metamorphmagus abilities when he was calm. Although, Stephanie had hope that he would have complete control by the time he turned four. Harry was a fast learner and, when he was not at the daycare with children his own age, was quite solemn. Not for the first time since struggling with the decision to put Harry in daycare, Stephanie thought it was good for him that he could come somewhere that he could act his own age.

“Ah, Stephanie-san, is it that time already? I must speak to you for a moment before you go.” Satou-sama said after waving her wand and casting a translation charm. The charm would allow her to speak in Japanese but Stephanie heard her in English. It also worked in reverse, anything Stephanie said would be heard in Japanese by Satou-sama. She only used it when speaking to Stephanie or Marshall, however, she felt that Harry should be spoken to in Japanese when in Japan. It was greatly due to her efforts to make sure Harry could speak Japanese that he was now fluent—well, as fluent as a two year old can be.

“What has Harry done today?” Stephanie rolled her eyes, Harry was forever doing something sneaky and getting caught. His ideas were usually Slytherin-worthy, but his enactment of those plans were usually very Gryffindor, she hoped to teach him some subtlety when he was older. Not too soon, mind, because then he'd likely get away with murder.

“Today the children were playing hide-and-seek and Harry-kun decided that he wanted to hide up in a tree. Come, let me show you where the children found Harry-kun.” Satou-sama motioned her over to a large Japanese Maple tree. “That crook is where we found Harry-kun. Actually, the children would never have found him except that he couldn't keep from laughing.” Satou-sama smiled.

Stephanie gaped, the crook was at least two meters off the ground. She could probably climb up there herself if she really put her mind to it, but for her two-year-old son to manage it, “How, exactly, did Harry manage that?”

“He says that he just really, really wanted to be in that crook and then he was. It is very strong accidental magic that your son has done.”

“Wow.” Stephanie glanced from where Harry was now sitting on the older boy and tickling him, assisted by Ryouta. “Well, do you have any suggestions for him? Or shall we carry on as we have been?” Satou-sama had been dealing with children and accidental magic almost as long as Stephanie had been alive, and she usually had some parenting tip for any difficulty that arose with any of “her” children.

“If he were older, I would suggest that he meditate and look inwards to find his magical center. This will help him better control his magic. However, as he is as young as he is, I don't know if he has the patience required to find his center yet. It is quite a process to find it, but once found it is easy to return to. For now, I would suggest that you simply talk to him about how it happened and what he did.”

“Alright, how old do you think he should be before he tries the meditation thing?” Stephanie asked. Finding ones magical center was not something that she had ever been taught, “Is it something that I could do as well, or does it only work for untrained children? I've never heard of this particular technique.”

“It is a technique used in the old days, I suspect that the west has forgotten it. In the old days, we did not have wands. In order to perform any kind of magic, the old ones had to first find their core and then connect to it. To answer your question, it is not only for untrained children. However, it is easier for them, as they are not used to the wand summoning their magic for them. What you will need to do is find a quiet place and still your mind. Once your mind is still take up your wand and cast a spell—any spell will do. Feel your magic rise up and complete the spell. Then you follow the paths that your magic took back to the center. Immerse yourself in it, become familiar with how it feels.” Satou-sama smiled. “It may take a few tries to be successful, and will likely take hours once you are. Make sure that you have plenty of time available without distractions.”

“Thank you Satou-sensei. I will try what you have suggested, I think you are right and Harry is probably too young for this technique, however we will be using it as soon as he is ready, I think.” Stephanie bowed and turned to where Harry was playing, “Harry, come on son, it's time to go home. We're going out for dinner with one of daddy's business associates tonight and we both need a bath before that!”

Harry scuffed his feet and pouted, “I don't wanna go! Daddy's dinner parties are boring!”

Harry would have continued whinging but Stephanie interrupted him, “Harry James Potter-Grey, stop at once. I know that daddy's dinner parties can be boring, but they are necessary. When you are older you will have to participate in the parties, but that is not for now. For now, you will behave tonight and come with me without a fuss or you will not go to Ryouta-kun's birthday party tomorrow.”

Harry looked up at here with his big green eyes, “Yes, haha4, I'm coming.” Harry turned around and waved to the other children, and said something rapidly in Japanese that Stephanie didn't catch. Apparrently Satou-sama's spell had worn off.

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Harry sat, bouncing excitedly, today was his fourth birthday and, although his party wasn't until tonight, this morning was a very special morning. Mummy had declared that he had enough control over his metamorph abilities since finding his magical center two months ago to venture into mundane territory. True, they had been to the airport last christmas and with papa's family for the whole holiday, but the whole time mummy had had a glamour on him and papa's family knew about magic. Today he was going to work with papa so mummy could prepare the house for his party without him underfoot—at least that was what mummy said. 

Marshall entered Harry's room to find him bouncing excitedly in his bed, mismatched clothes beside him. Marshall chuckled, “Harry, son, calm yourself. We mustn't have you looking the ragamuffin today, those clothes simply won't do. I've bought you a new outfit for today.” Marshall handed Harry a thin package.

Harry grinned and took the package, tearing into the wrapping and opening the box. Inside was a new light pair of khaki trousers, an emerald green silk shirt and a plain white undershirt. Underneath it all was a new pair of dragon hide boots and some socks. “Arigato papa. Will you help me put them on?” Once Harry was dressed, he and Marshall headed down the stairs for Harry's birthday breakfast then off to the Embassy.

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Harry sighed and swung his feet, this was boring. The morning had been interesting, lots of people in and out of his papa's office and lots of new things to see. Papa had shown Harry how some of the negotiations that he had been part of in the last few years had played out. It strongly tickled Harry's Slytherin sense of cunning, trying to get what you want without giving up anything you don't want to. Although Harry didn't understand what exactly the negotiations were for, the process involved intrigued him greatly. Harry thought that maybe if he learned how his papa did that he might be able to get a later bedtime, or less baths. Harry sighed again, but probably not both. 

Now papa had paperwork to do and that was not interesting at all. Time seemed to not move one little bit! Harry had learned to tell time two weeks ago and that clock on the wall had not moved from 3:30 for hours! He had forgotten his favorite book at home, and papa didn't have anything immediately to hand that was suitable for his age. Although Harry could read, all the books in here had big words that he had not yet learned. 

Marshall looked up at Harry, he had planned this whole day out so that Harry would not be bored. Unfortunately, an emergency arose and Marshall got stuck reading this poorly written proposal. He felt sorry, in an abstract way, for the aide who had written this proposal, it was severely lacking and required a good bit of editing. Thus the reason that Harry was sitting, bored, on a chair on the other side of his desk. Suddenly, an idea hit Marshall, “Harry, how would you like to go down to the dojo and watch? I'm pretty sure that there is a class right now. I know how much you like to watch Jun when he does his kata.”

Harry jumped up excitedly, any time he got an opportunity to watch anyone practicing any of the Japanese martial art forms he took it, although jujutsu and kendo were his favorite to watch. “Where's the dojo, papa?” Harry cried grabbing Marshall's hand, “Let's go! What are we waiting for?”

Marshall chuckled, took Harry's hand and lead him down the hall towards a sign that read 'Yoshinkan Hombu Dojo.' “Here we are Harry, let me check with the sensei and make sure he doesn't mind you watching.” 

Harry watched as his papa walked over to the sensei who was standing in the corner. The class had apparently not started yet as the group of young teens were standing around chatting. The sensei glanced at Harry and headed over towards him. Harry straightened his shoulders, he had to be a proper little boy and be on his best behavior if he wanted to be allowed to stay.

The sensei approached Harry and smiled at him, Harry bowed and said, in fluent Japanese, “Sensei, I would be most happy if you would allow me to watch your students.”

The sensei laughed and turned to Marshall, “I see your son is very polite, Marshall-san. Of course he may stay and watch.” The sensei turned to the solemn but nearly bouncing Harry, “You, Harry-kun, may stay, but you must stay out of the way, yes?”

“Yes, sensei. You won't even know I'm here.” Harry bounced a little, before regaining his composure and sitting down to remove his shoes so he could enter the dojo proper.

“Thank you sensei, he was just about to explode in my office, I had some paperwork come in that could not wait until tomorrow. I will return for him within the hour.” Marshall sighed.

“That is unnecessary, Marshall-san. He may remain here and observe until you are ready to leave if you wish it.”

“Very well.” Marshall glanced in at Harry to see him sitting on the floor at the side of the dojo watching the older teens on the mat warm up and copying their actions. Marshall chuckled, “Harry loves jujutsu. One of his friends at his daycare is enrolled at a dojo and Harry will sit and watch him do his kata every day. Jun tells him he's too young for a dojo yet, but he still tries to imitate anything he sees Jun do.”

“Well, perhaps, if he seems in control enough I will allow him to join in the beginner class that is after this. We shall see.” The sensei bowed to Marshall and turned to his students.

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Stephanie smiled to herself as the front door banged open, “Mum! Guess what? Sensei said that I'm doing so good with my jujutsu that I could join with the Kendo class this year!” a now 5-year-old Harry bounded into the kitchen where Stephanie was making dinner, followed at a more sedate pace by his father. Harry slowed down at a look from his mother but quickly moved to her side and gave her a hug as best he could, given her 8-month-pregnant state. “Hi baby sister,” Harry began speaking in English but quickly drifted to more rapid fire Japanese while telling his unborn sister about his day.

“Stephanie,” Marshall called from the other side of the table, “I got our next assignment today. We are going to Russia next year.”

Harry glanced up sharply, “Russia! That's forever away, will I ever see my friends again? I don't want to leave Ryouta!”

“Harry, it's okay.” Stephanie soothed, “Russia is not that far for witches and wizards, it's a simple port key away. You will still get to see Ryouta. Perhaps not as much as you do now, but you can write letters and take a lot of pictures for him. Besides, we're not leaving until after Christmas, it's not quite August yet, there's plenty of time.”

Harry thought about it for a moment, then replied, “Mum, I don't speak Russian.”

Stephanie laughed, “Neither do I, son, we'll just have to learn some. Although I expect that you will pick it up faster than I will, the same as you did with Japanese.”

Harry looked over at his father, “Papa, I need to learn Russian.” He intoned seriously, “How can I learn Russian?”

Marshall smiled, “Harry, I will get you some tapes that teach you how to speak Russian, I foresee that you'll be fluent before we even get there.”

Harry grinned cheekily, “Of course I will. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Someone in this family needs to be able to talk to the people over there!” Harry said, for a minute mimicking his father in his favorite saying.

Stephanie laughed at her precocious son, “Go get cleaned up for dinner, Harry. Then you need to get to bed early, you've got a big day tomorrow. Satou-sama is taking all of you to Maho no Roji tomorrow to see what she called wando kogei5. I'm not actually sure what that means, but I'm sure it will be interesting.” She said, referring to Tokyo's magical shopping center.

Harry paused on his way out of the room, “It means that we are going to the wand maker's shop tomorrow, mum.”

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The children clattered into Satou-sama's van the next day. Jun, as the oldest, got the front seat, Takahiro and Reina sat in the center and Harry, Ryouta and Ayaka, as the youngest, sat in the back seat. Momko had left for school the year prior and was now too old for daycare. Although they could have just flooed to the More Nabe6, Satou-sensei felt that it was both too hot to start a fire, being the first of August, and that the hour drive would be more educational for the 6 children who had no exposure to the mundane world.

Satou-sama drove through the tunnel of cherry trees on the Sotobori Dori towards the center of Tokyo. They parked the car in a lot near the corner of Sotobori Dori and Aoyama Dori and walked to the center of the block where the More Nabe was located. Although Harry had never entered Majo no Roji from the mundane side, he could feel the wards that kept the mundanes from finding the entrance to their world. 

The group quickly moved through the back of the More Nabe and out onto the concrete street.

“This is Maho no Roji, in this area, most general shopping can be done, general school supplies, clothes, groceries and potion supplies.” Satou-sensei began telling them about the area for those who had not ever entered the Alley. The group continued down the road, “The shop that we are going to is at the end of this street.” She motioned to a side street that branched off of Majo no Roji, “That is Akarui Roji, down there are the more specialized shops, expensive clothing stores and so on. You can find just about anything down Akarui Roji,” she paused and motioned down the street across from it, “and, if you can't, you most likely will find it down Kurai Roji. The shops there lean more towards the dark side of magic—don't even think about it Harry-kun,” Satou-sensei interrupted herself, seeing the interested gleam in Harry's eye, “There is a ward around Kurai Roji that denies anyone not of age entrance, even if you are with your parents. The dark arts are not illegal, however they are strictly regulated and you may not study it until your magic has matured and your magical center can withstand the requirements of dark magic. That is why some countries that do not regulate dark magic users have problems, most children's magic is not mature enough to handle the dark magic and it twists him.” Satou-sensei looked at all six of them solemnly, “You must promise me that if you intend to learn dark magic that you will not attempt to practice any until your magical center has matured.”

“Yes, Sensei,” All six intoned, understanding the gravity of the situation. This was not something to be played with.

Satou-sama brightened, “Very good, but we did not come here to think on such things, now, to the wand crafters.” She lead them to a large bright store at the terminal end of Maho no Roji, the sign outside had two crossed wands emitting sparks.

Inside the store there were shelves and shelves of small boxes behind a counter. A bell tinkled over the door and an old Japanese man came around the corner and smiled widely at them. “Ah, children, it is good to see you. Now, today I am going to show you how wands are made,” he gestured to Jun, “How old are you, boku-chan?”

“I am eleven, Sensei.”

“You will be going to school this year, yes? Well, perhaps you will find the materials that will make your wand today.” The wand crafter smiled mysteriously. “Now, who all do we have here?”

The children all introduced themselves and then followed the wand crafter into the back room which was filled with raw wand materials. On one wall were boxes and boxes of wand blanks, on the other were boxes, vials and bags of wand core materials. “Now, each of these wand blanks has a perfect match in its core. The core material of the wand will depend on the material of the wood. Each wood and each core fall somewhere on the dark to light spectrum. If the wand wood is at the end of the dark spectrum, then the core needs to be at the end of the light spectrum. In this way the wand has balance. An unbalanced wand has unpredictable effects. Now, each of you grab a wand blank, take your time, and we will move on from there.”

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Harry looked at the wand he had created, there were a few nicks in the wood where he had slipped and the core was not quite inside the wood yet, but he could feel the magic in it. The wand crafter was collecting the different combinations that the children had made over the afternoon, commenting on each. As the wand crafter had predicted, Jun had made a wand that—when finished by the wand crafter—would perfectly suit him.

The wand crafter stopped in front of Harry, “What have you created, Potter-kun? Let us see: Birch wood and Black Poisonwood, an interesting combination. And for the cores? Hmm, Basilisk fang and serpent scales, very interesting indeed. Not a combination that I would make myself, however I can feel the magic in it and it is in balance. This could be a very powerful wand Potter-kun, but I do not know that it will work for anyone but you, and you are far too young for such a tool.” 

Harry looked up at him wide eyed, “They were calling me, Sensei, they wanted to go into a wand together, although the combination is not one that you mentioned. Should I not have listened?”

“No, Potter-kun, you did well. I will finish this wand and when you are older you return here and I will give it to you.”

Harry grinned, he had a wand! True, he couldn't use it, or even touch it for a few more years, but he had one. And it was one he created himself. Now, the day was almost over and it would soon be time to go home. Maybe papa had picked up those Russian tapes he promised, Harry couldn't wait to start to learn a new language; although he hated the idea at first, now he was simply excited to see more of the world. The world really wasn't that big when you were a wizard, anyhow.

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Japanese Translations  
1 Kakurenbo – Hide-and-seek  
2 Te Kudasai – Please  
3 Guzen no maho – accidental magic  
4 Haha – mother, but only your own  
5 Wando kogei – wand crafting  
6 More Nabe – literally translated Leaky Cauldron, not terribly original, I know, but it was fun.


	5. The Old Coot

  
Author's notes: The Old Coot  


* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine.  
AN: Several of you have asked what's going on with DD. Honestly, I hadn't decided if I wanted him to be simply manipulative for the good as he saw it, greedy, malicious, evil, incompetent or senile. I've decided now, so here's a bit of DD (with a smidgeon of SS). R&R.  
A.N.2: So, yeah... sorry about the wait, only I was in a rather awful car accident last week and I was doing nothing but taking Vicodin and sleeping all weekend. To any of you who may be teenage drivers: Please remember to check for oncoming traffic before you turn left (or right if you're in the UK). Thanks. Anyhow, on with the show.

o 0 o

Hogwarts, November 1, 1981, evening

Albus Dumbledore sat in his tower office contemplating the events of the past 24 hours. Yesterday evening, Voldemort had set in motion a prophecy told to himself by the current divination teacher in an interview two years ago. Albus aspired to keep her close in order to prevent any nefarious characters from extracting the prophecy from her in its entirety. While Voldemort did know part—thanks to a death eater overhearing the beginning of it—the conclusion, and, therefore, the key to fulfilling it to a favorable outcome, was Albus' alone, he was sure of it.

 

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lords approaches ...   
born to those who have thrice defied him,   
born as the seventh month dies ...   
and the Dark Lords will mark him as equal,   
but he will have power the Dark Lords know not ...   
and either must end at the hand of the other   
for none can live while the others survive ...   
the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lords   
will be born as the seventh month dies ...*  
and he will bring balance

 

While the prophecy could initially have referred to two different boys, Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom, Voldemort's actions the previous night singled one boy over the other. Harry Potter was the boy of the prophecy. Nevertheless, Albus would keep magical tabs on both boys throughout their youth. Thus ensuring that young Harry would be the perfect savior and martyr—which, given the results of his evaluation this morning was inevitable—and that young Neville would never outshine Harry. And although this would mean that neither would reach their potential, it was for Albus' greater good and would allow him, as the savior's mentor, to usher in a peaceful time and forever do away with the evil dark arts that so twisted his beloved Gellert.

Albus deliberated on his examination of Harry and considered his options. When Harry had first been brought to Hogwarts shortly after the attack that resulted in Voldemort's disappearance, he had been covered in nicks and cuts from the debris that had rained down when the magical backlash had blown out the wall and roof in his nursery. This morning, Albus had returned to see Harry and determine exactly what had occurred the previous night. The conclusions Albus came to were somewhat disturbing. First, Harry had a rather larger than average sized magical core: Solution, Albus had blocked the greater portion of it—for Harry's own good, of course, he would be growing up in the muggle world and strong accidental magic would be less than desirable. Second, one of Albus' rather more grey spells indicated that Harry had an eidetic memory: Solution, Albus had cursed him with a fairly short attention span—he couldn't have Harry learning too much on his own, it was Albus' job to teach Harry what he wanted him to know, just enough to succeed in vanquishing Voldemort for good, but not enough to see Albus' own machinations. Third, and possibly most disturbing (were Albus worried for the child rather than the weapon, which he was not), Harry had a small portion of Voldemort's spirit attached to his forehead which resulted in a unique scar that would serve to identify him to the wizarding world at large: Solution, Albus had encased the spirit in protective magic that would serve to keep it from invading Harry's psyche. Albus planned to use this tidbit to convince Harry of his need to be a martyr when he was no longer required.

Albus sat back and popped an untainted lemon drop into his mouth, all in all it had been a very productive day. Tomorrow he would have to determine how best to get Harry into the care of his maternal aunt, visit the Longbottoms to examine Neville for potential and replenish his supply of lemon drops, they were getting rather low. With those decisions made, Albus retired to his chambers.

 

Hogwarts, November 2, 1981, morning

Albus sat in his throne like chair at the head's table in the Great Hall, benevolently surveying the students who were still celebrating the downfall of Voldemort. Classes had been cancelled for the entire week, as even if classes had been held nothing would have been accomplished. The owls swooped in with the morning mail and the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

Longbottom's attacked! Bartemius Crouch, Jr., Lestranges apprehended!

Albus smiled internally, here was a perfect, ready-made excuse to see and examine Neville Longbottom. Carefully keeping his external expression grave, Albus gleefully read the article. It seemed that both Alice and Frank were in St. Mungos and it looked unlikely that they would ever leave. Long exposure to the Cruciatus curse resulted in an unstable, stuporous state that was untreatable with light magic.

 

Hogwarts, November 3, 1981, evening

Albus returned to his office, feeling pleased with the results of his day. He had visited Longbottom Manor and although it had taken him all of yesterday to convince Augusta to allow him to examine Neville, he was successful in the end. Being the greatest light wizard in an age had its benefits. Neville Longbottom was a roly-poly child, according to Albus' evaluation, however he only had an average magical core and no astounding talents. Nevertheless, Albus had ensured he would not reach his potential and challenge Harry by cursing him with anxiety. 

Albus set the bag of lemon drops he had bought on his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Now, to write the letter of explanation to Petunia and drop Harry off. Ten minutes later, Albus sat back, pleased with himself.

 

Petunia, 

I regret to inform you that your sister and her husband have passed away at the hands of a madman, leaving their son behind. It falls to you to raise him, his name is Harry. You are not expected to treat him any better than your own son, nor are you required to tell him anything of his heritage. In fact, it may be better if he remains unaware of it. 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,   
Order of Merlin, First Class  
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Chief Warlock of the Wizangamot  
Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards

 

Albus folded the parchment, sealing it with blood red wax and imprinting it with his seal. Then, after casting a compulsion charm on the letter, he left his office headed for Little Whinging to deliver Harry to his relatives' doorstep.

 

Gringotts, November 6, 1982

Albus Dumbledore breezed through the doors of Gringotts bank early in the morning. It was a Saturday, and he wanted to get his business here out of the way quickly. Last year, after placing Harry Potter in the care of his relatives, Albus had come to the bank to determine how much capital the baby had. Albus had presented the key to the trust vault—the only one he could access as Harry's self-appointed magical guardian—and visited the vault. He was surprised how much gold was in a simple trust vault, there were mounds of galleons, columns of sickles and heaps of knuts*. 

Albus had determined that he could safely remove 5,000 galleons without it being especially notable. He had returned a week later to deposit those 5,000 galleons into the Weasley vault, anonymously of course, the Weasleys were very touchy on the subject of charity. The Weasleys were some of Albus' greatest supporters. Unfortunately, the Weasley's had more children than they could afford and the eldest had started at Hogwarts this year. Additionally, the Weasleys had a son that was just Harry's age and a daughter—the first in generations—that was only a year younger. Albus intended that Harry should be friends with the youngest Weasley boy and, perhaps if he lived long enough, to marry the girl—it wouldn't do to have the ministry absorb the Potter vaults because Harry had no will or issue when he died. However, in order for that plan to work, the family needed to be able to survive. Thus, Albus was again at Gringotts to remove another 5,000 galleons from Harry's trust vault and deposit it into the Weasley's.

Albus walked up to a free goblin and said, “I am here to make a withdrawal from my ward's trust vault. Unfortunately, I believe that the bank has recalled his vault key as it was not in the locked drawer I have for such things. I require a new key.” Confident that his wishes would be obeyed.

“Your ward is, whom?” The goblin growled.

“Harry Potter.” Albus replied.

The goblin narrowed his eyes at Albus, “The Potter trust vault has been sealed. The young heir's blood is required to open it.”

Albus' eyes widened slightly. This could be tricky, but Harry was still young enough that he wouldn't remember anything as he got older and Albus was sure that he could get Petunia to allow him to borrow Harry for the morning, especially if she got some money out of the deal. “Very well, I shall return with him.”

The goblin bared his teeth, “You do that.”

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Albus walked down Privet Drive, debating how best to convince Petunia to loan him Harry for the morning. Primarily, he had transfigured his outlandish wizarding robes into an expensive looking muggle suit and wool coat. Albus turned down the walk to number 4, observing the smoke coming from the chimney. Good, Petunia was home. Albus knocked on the door which was opened by a pretty brunette.

“Ah, Petunia, I need to speak to you. May I come in?” Albus smiled indulgently.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I think you've got the wrong address. My name is Mary Ashdown. There's no Petunia in residence.” The woman smiled at him, at the same time closing the door minutely in preparation to slam it if Albus turned threatening.

“I'm sure this is the right address, I was here last year.” Albus began but was interrupted.

“Well, there's your problem. We've only just bought this house last month.” Mary relaxed a little, this wasn't a crack-pot, it was just a case of mistaken address.

Albus felt himself paling slightly and a small pit of dread filling his stomach. “Do you know where the family that used to live here moved to?”

“Not a clue, the house had been standing vacant for a fair few months before we moved in. We never actually even met the sellers. Sorry, mister.”

Dazed, Albus turned and walked away, dimly registering what he had not upon entering the property: the wards he had set to engage as soon as Harry was in the house were nonexistent. Albus was unsure if this meant that the wards had never engaged or that they had fallen without Harry there to support them.

 

Hogwarts, June 10, 1985

Albus sat behind his desk, waiting for his young potions professor to make an appearance. The children had all left for home the day before and now Albus was about to bring in some assistance in his search for Harry Potter. A search he had kept completely to himself since he discovered him missing. He had employed all magical means to attempt to locate the wayward Potter heir: light, grey and even a few dark. All returned the same results, Harry Potter could not be found. 

Severus Snape stalked up to the headmaster's office, black robes swirling around his ankles. He had been summoned early this morning as he was preparing to leave the school for the summer. Severus was looking forward to the almost three months before school started again. He had worked out a possible formula for a potion that would allow a werewolf to keep his mind during the monthly transformation. All that was left was to experiment with the actual brewing process over the summer. Severus was not a fan of werewolves by any means—having been nearly killed by one in the past—however he knew that such a potion would bring great honor and even more galleons to his name.

Severus approached the gargoyles that guarded the headmaster's office and gave the password: Ice Mice. He strode up the stairs and was about to knock on the door when the headmaster's voice came from inside, “Enter, Severus.”

Severus entered the office and sat in one of the chairs that faced the desk, “What is it that you want, Headmaster? I was about to leave for the summer.” Severus queried.

“Ah, my boy, I have come up against an obstacle that requires your particular skills to overcome.” Albus stated vaguely.

Severus stared at Albus, wondering exactly which 'particular skills' the headmaster was speaking of. He knew that Albus wanted him to ask, however he was not in the mood to indulge Albus' whims. Therefore, he simply opted to wait for Albus to speak.

“It seems that the family that is caring for Harry Potter has moved. They have left no forwarding address, and I have been unable to find them by any magical means. I wish for you to locate them using muggle means. As you grew up in the muggle world, you are much better equipped to perform this task. I have tried, and been wholly unsuccessful.” Albus said, after a few minutes of silence.

Severus narrowed his eyes, “You've lost Lily's child? Whom did you deem worthy to raise the savior?”

“He was given to his maternal aunt to raise. As it appears it was Lily's love that saved young Harry's life, I deemed it most appropriate for him to be raised where her blood resides.”

Severus would have dropped his head into his hand if he had less control over himself. “Albus, you left your precious savior in the care of that shrew? Petunia was a spiteful little girl. Always jealous of Lily's abilities and the love and attention that was given to her from their parents. She absolutely loathed anything to do with magic! And that is who you gave my Lily's son to to raise?”

“It was the best place for him. Who is raising Harry is not up for discussion, nor is it the issue here. The issue is that the Dursley's relocated, sometime in the year after Harry was left with them. I wish you to find them and check on Harry then report back to me.”

Severus glared at Albus, “Very well, but I repeat, it was a bad idea to leave a magical child in the care of Petunia Dursley. Especially one as important as Potter is to the sheep of our world.”

 

Cardiff, June 20, 1985

Severus stood outside an opulent home in the countryside outside of Cardiff. In the end, it had really not been that difficult to locate the Dursleys through muggle means with the judicious use of magic. Severus had visited the Dursley's old neighborhood in Surrey and interviewed the neighbors. He told them that he was looking for Vernon Dursley because he'd had a rich uncle die and had received a windfall. Through his conversations with the neighbors, he found where Vernon Dursley worked and that the Dursley's had left as if they were going on vacation one day and never returned. Severus had then visited Vernon Dursley's place of employment. This turned out to be rather almost fruitless as Vernon Dursley had not worked there since November, 1981, and had left no forwarding address. 

Severus' first break had come when one of the secretaries had remembered that, just prior to quitting, Vernon had boasted about a major windfall and that he was moving his family to an elite neighborhood in Cardiff. Severus had then visited the Cardiff library to search their phone books for the listing for Vernon Dursley. It had taken several days and even more false leads, but now here Severus was, standing outside Petunia Dursley's house.

Severus raised his hand and knocked on the door. From within he heard the sound of a child screaming and the shrill tones of Petunia's voice.

The door opened and a thin, harried-looking woman answered the door, “Can I help...” Petunia cut herself off, a look of disgust crossing her face, “What do you want, Severus?”

Severus glared at her, “I've come to check on Lily's son. Certain parties were concerned when you moved and left no forwarding address.”

Petunia glanced behind her and then stepped out onto the porch. One of the greatest things about this house was it could not be seen from other homes in the area, no nosy neighbors getting into her business. Nevertheless, she was not going to admit Severus Snape, of all people, into her house. “I don't have custody of Lily's child.” She raised her hand as Severus was about to interrupt, “That day, I found him in a basket on the porch when I went to get the paper. Lily had sent me a letter a few weeks prior that said if that should happen that I was to call the American Embassy and give her son to Stephanie Grey. She picked him up that same morning. I'm rather glad that Lily made those arrangements. I've got my hands completely full with my own son, I am certain that I would not have been able to handle a child like her as well. Now, you have your information, I'll kindly ask you to leave and please do not return. I wish to have no contact with anyone from the world that killed my sister.” With that, Petunia turned and went into the house, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Severus considered what he had learned, and apparated to London to find the American Embassy and Stephanie Grey. He had a suspicion that Stephanie Grey might really be Stephanie Abernathy, as she had been close with Lily all through school. If this was true, then he knew that Lily's son would have a proper upbringing but additionally, he might have to brace himself for a Slytherin Harry Potter.

 

Tokyo, June 25, 1985

Severus sat at a table in More Nabe sipping his butterbeer and listening to the sharp tones of Japanese all around him. He could have cast a translation charm, but truly, he had no desire to eavesdrop on any of the conversations going on around him. He was currently pondering his next move. His visit to the American Embassy had informed him that the Greys had been transferred to Japan nearly four years ago. Severus' head snapped up at the sound of a child jabbering in English. He glanced around the pub and gasped as his eyes connected with those of a very pregnant Stephanie Grey nee Abernathy. He had found them.

Severus swept up from his table and followed them out into the shopping district. The child was the right age to be Lily's son, but he looked nothing like what Severus expected. His hair was sleek and black, his face more angular than either Lily or James. And although Severus did not see the lightning bolt scar that the entire wizarding world was in awe of, his eyes were almost identical to Lily's.

Suddenly, when the boy was distracted by the window dressing of a shop, Stephanie whirled around, her wand already pointed at Severus, “What are you doing here, Severus?” She asked in a low whisper.

“Albus sent me to find Lily's son.” Severus saw no reason to lie.

“If you ever truly loved Lily, you will not reveal Harry to that bastard.” Stephanie hissed, “Lily asked me to raise him, asked me to adopt him, even. That old man left Harry on a doorstep in the middle of the night in November. He also bound Harry's magic so tight that he would have been a squib. You have two choices, you vow not to tell him or I obliviate you. Think fast, because I don't want Harry to see you.”

Severus stilled. Albus had done those things? Well, he supposed that it was possible, the old goat never did see the smaller picture. One look into Stephanie's eyes told him she was deadly serious and would protect her son through any means. “Very well, I vow on my magic not to reveal what I have discovered this day.”

Stephanie smiled coldly, “Not good enough Severus, I was a Slytherin too. You'll vow on your magic that you will not reveal to anyone what you have learned about Harry's living situation, or I'll obliviate you right now.”

Severus smirked. “Stephanie, you are teaching him to be the wizard he is capable of becoming, I assume?”

Stephanie nodded, “He will know who he is and what his place in society is, and when that vile animal of a man you used to call 'master' reappears, he will remove him from power permanently. So you'd best consider all angles before you commit to anything this time around.”

Severus nearly gaped at her, he didn't think anyone but Albus believed that the Dark Lord would return, “I will consider all you have said, I Severus Snape vow on my magic not to reveal what I have learned about Harry Potter.”

Stephanie relaxed minutely, “Thank you, now, you should go. Harry will be at Hogwarts, don't worry about that.”

Severus turned and left. He still had two months to work on that potion. He would return to Hogwarts a week before school started and tell Albus that Petunia had never set eyes on her nephew.

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not word for word, but almost, from JK

A.N.: Before any of you jump down my throat about how much money would have gone how far, I did do my homework. A galleon is approximately 5 pounds, so the Weasley's 5k galleons is 25k pounds. 25K pounds in 1981 is approximately equal to right around 100k of today. Similarly, the money given to the Dursley's is equal to approximately 2.2 million pounds today. Secondly, Harry's not of average intelligence, therefore I'm not going to write him average, children have the easiest time learning new languages because their neural pathways are still growing. Additionally, it's fiction. ~sorry, had to rant for a mo, done now~


	6. The Russians

  
Author's notes: The Russian Years  


* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A.N.: Sorry for the delay, life got away from me. And yes, I'm aware that technically it was the Soviet Union in 1985. 

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Six-year-old Harry Potter-Grey sat on a chair in a goblin's office at Gringotts, Moscow, waiting for his mother to be done talking to the goblin. It was time for his yearly checkup and loosening of the goblin bonds on his magic. This year the bonds had been loosened so that his magical output was at 75%, and in another three years or so they would come off entirely to give him time to adjust to a full magical output before school. Harry decided to practice his metamorphmagus talent while he waited, pulling out a mirror—that he kept for times of boredom such as this—to see the changes.

Stephanie, holding 11-month-old Elizabeth Grey, turned from the goblin to tell Harry that it was time to go. They were headed to a wizarding park so that Harry could try out the kiddie broom that Stephanie had finally relented and bought for him. It would not go too fast and would not rise above 2 meters. As Harry had not been on a broom since Stephanie and Marshall had adopted him, she felt this was the best place to start. 

Stephanie took one look at her young son and snorted, trying to contain her laughter, Harry looked up at her and she gave in. Harry had obviously been playing with his metamorph abilities. His hair was straw blond with neon pink and electric blue streaks, it was shoulder-length and in Shirley Temple curls. His eyebrows were a lime green, one eye was pure black the other was sky blue but what amused her the most was the bottom half of his face had been transformed into a duck's bill, except he still had teeth.

“Come on, love,” Stephanie said, still giggling, “Let the transformations go and we'll head over to the park to see how your broom suits you.”

Harry nodded his head vigorously, and resumed his base appearance. “I can change my hair, and I can usually get my eyes to cooperate, but I can't figure out how to make the teeth disappear with the duck bill.” He said, a little frustrated.

“And do you anticipate needing to turn your face into that of a duck frequently,” Stephanie smiled.

“Well, no, but it's annoying that I can't do it.” Harry replied.

“You'll get it eventually, son, I'm sure of it.” Stephanie said, “You can do anything you set your mind to.” This was Stephanie's mantra when it came to Harry, she was sure that as long as he was not discouraged, he would be able to do anything when he grew up. “Now, hold on to me and I'll apparate us to the park.” With a muted crack the three disappeared from Predznamenovaniem Allyeya, Moscow's wizarding shopping district, reappearing a moment later in a huge grassy field. 

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Seven-year-old Harry was excited. Today was the last day of school before summer break and they were taking a field trip to the zoo. He hadn't been to the zoo in Moscow yet, and it was years ago when he went to the zoo in Tokyo. Harry was sure that today was going to be fantastic. 

When it was time to leave for the zoo, all the grade 1 students walked single file to the busses. Harry quickly claimed two benches; one for himself and the boys, Aleksei and Zimitra, and one for the girls, Anastassia, Ekaterina and Galina. The six had been inseparable since their first day of kindergarten.

Once at the zoo, the 25 students in Harry's class were directed to follow an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair named Mrs. Kozlov. She was going to be their guide for the tour of the zoo. The class saw snow leopards and tigers, kangaroos and jackrabbits, giraffes and zebras, elephants and wolves. There was an enclosure with hundreds of exotic birds inside and a smaller enclosure with larakeets that the children could feed and have land on them. It was getting late in the day, almost time to go home, and there was one stop left for Harry and his classmates. The reptile house. 

The children were allowed to look around for a few minutes before the reptile handler, Mr. Novikov, came out to teach the class a little about reptiles. He had several different animals to show them, but the one that Harry found most enthralling was the large snake that was around the handlers shoulders. Harry, Aleksei, Zimitra, Anastassia, Ekaterina and Galina sat at the front of the group eagerly.

'Oh, look, more little humans. I want to go back to my stone and sleep!' Harry looked around curiously, wondering where the voice was coming from.

Mr. Novikov pulled the snake off his shoulders, “This is Anessia, she is an albino ball python.”

'I have told you, I am not a she! Why does he never listen?' Harry smothered his giggle, certain that he was the only one who had heard the snake's reply. Mr. Novikov continued telling the class about the different reptiles in the enclosure, but Harry stayed focused on the python that was now sitting on the floor curled up in itself. 'Why can't the floors be warmer, I tell him I am cold blooded and it needs to be warmer in here, but does ANYONE listen to the snake? No, they don't. I wonder if I will get a live rat to chase for being such a good snake today.' The snake continued to grumble for another minute before catching Harry's intense stare. 'Why are you still looking at me, little human?' Harry knew he couldn't reply, being in the middle of a bunch of mundanes, so he simply grinned and raised his eyebrows. 'Do you understand me, little human?' Harry nodded slightly. 'Your lap looks warm, I am cold.' Harry waved the snake over surreptitiously.

Mr. Novikov stopped his lecture abruptly when he noticed his python slithering up into the laps of some of the children, he started to retrieve her when Harry stopped him. “It's ok, sir, he's just cold. We don't mind.” The other five shook their heads. Mr. Novikov shrugged, this was the first time that Anessia had voluntarily gone into the audience, but as long as the children didn't mind.

Harry burst into the living room where Stephanie was rocking Lizzy, “Mum! Guess what? I heard a snake today!” 

“Oh, and what did the snake tell you?” Stephanie smiled indulgently, Harry's imagination knew no bounds.

“He said that he was a he not an she like Mr. Novikov said, and that he wanted a live rat and was cold!” Harry exclaimed, “I let him curl up on my lap to get warm.”

Stephanie stopped, did this mean that Harry was a parselmouth? “Did you talk back to the snake at all?” 

“No, I couldn't, there were mundanes all around.”

“Good boy. This is not a common ability to have, if I'm right it means that you are a parselmouth. Back in England having this ability is seen as a mark of evil because their most recent dark lord was known for his parselmouth ability. However, I think you probably got it from me when I blood adopted you. I am—and therefore you are—descended from Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts and the most well known parselmouth. I'm not sure how the ability is looked on in Russia, but I think until we know more you probably should be careful who knows about it.”

Harry nodded, it made sense. He had always known that he was blood adopted at the wishes of his birth parents after their death. “OK. Can I call Ryouta?”

Stephanie smiled, “Yes, you may.”

The next day found Stephanie entering Predznamenovaniem Allyeya by herself in search of any books she could find on parseltongue. Walking down the street she saw a sign that said simply, 'Rare books'. She figured that that was as good a place as any to start her search. It seemed that luck was with her, she found several books that dealt with parseltongue. 

As she was paying for the books, the proprietor eyed her, then nodding to himself, he said, “You are the parselmouth, or you know one?”

Stephanie hesitated, she was unsure if she wanted to tell anyone.

“Do not worry. The English have many strange beliefs about the world at large that are untrue. There are many parselmouths worldwide. More than 50 but less than 100 I would guess. It is not an evil ability, but a powerful one that allows the speaker access to a very elite branch of magic.”

“My son has discovered he has this ability. I wanted to learn all I could about it so that when he begins to train his magic I could explain it to him. What do you mean by an elite branch of magic?” Stephanie queried.

“Parselmouths are able to use parselmagic.” The proprietor grabbed a book from behind the counter, “This book will explain to your son more about his ability and how to train it.”

Stephanie looked at the book, the front of the book was covered in squiggles, as were all the pages. “What do you mean, this is not any language I've ever seen written, and I'm sure that Harry hasn't either.”

The man smiled, “I doubt you have, that is what parseltongue looks like on paper. Your son will instinctively be able to read it.”

“I— thank you.” Stephanie payed and then returned home, contemplating what she'd learned.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o

It was the day after Harry's ninth birthday and the day after Harry's goblin bonds were completely removed. Stephanie and Marshall down with their three children, Harry, Lizzy and two-month-old Alexander, to explain to Harry the circumstances surrounding his adoption and birth parents' death. He had always known about the adoption, but Stephanie and Marshall felt that it would be better to keep the specifics from him until he could understand what they meant. They had wanted to wait one more year, however Marshall had been transferred to France effective the end of the month. Since Harry's name was far more popular in that area of the country, they both felt it was better to tell him now than have him blindsided with it by a stranger.

“Harry, we felt that it would be best if we told you a little more about how we came to adopt you since we are going back west, and you and your birth parents are rather acclaimed in the British Isles, although I'm not sure if that fame extends over into France.” Stephanie started. “You know a little bit about England's dark lord problem a decade ago, but not how it ended. The story of how Marshall and I came to have you starts about two weeks before the dark lord Voldemort disappeared. 

“Your mother wrote me a letter telling me that she'd had a premonition of her and James' death, she wanted to ask me to take you if that happened. I'll make a very long story short, there is a prophecy about you. I don't know what it says, but because of it your birth parents went into hiding with you. They were killed when their secret keeper broke the secret. Voldemort himself carried out the deed, but for whatever reason, the curse he used on you rebounded on him and he disappeared. Now, he's not gone for good according to the goblins, but he's gone for now and not something that we have to worry about just yet.

“Now, the reason I wanted you to understand this before we head back west next week is because your name is famous out there. You are considered their savior. They even have a nickname for you, you are called 'The Boy-who-Lived'. The English are not that creative with nicknames, I know, Voldemort was called 'You-know-who'. One more thing, it really doesn't have to do with the adoption, however, Voldemort is also a parselmouth. He was very well known for it, in fact. I'm telling you this because if the English discover that you are one as well, it is very possible that you will be labeled evil and dark. I just wanted to caution you to be careful of who you reveal this ability to when we get to France and when you are at Hogwarts. There is a bit more to the story after we adopted you, but I don't think you're quite ready for that yet, although you will know before you go to Hogwarts. I promise.”

Harry sighed, “So I'm famous out there? For something I didn't even do? Great.”

Marshall smiled, “I know, Harry. Just don't let the opinions of other people dictate what you do.”

“Don't worry, papa, I won't. You've raised me to be an independent thinker.” Harry smiled back at his parents. “It's a bit much to take in, but I'll be fine.”

Stephanie clapped her hands, “OK, Harry I want you to finish packing up your stuff tonight, you're going to Ryouta's house tomorrow. I will be by to pick you up in a week and we will go get your wand from the wand crafter in Maho no Roji.”

“OK mum.” Harry replied and hurried off to his room to put the finishing touches on his packing. He was quite excited, it had been a month since he had seen Ryouta. Additionally, he was going to get to pick up the wand that he had partially made just before they moved from Japan. Harry assumed that this meant that he was going to get to learn some magic very soon. He had read some of his mum's old school books that he had snuck out of the library without her knowing, and was sure that he could probably do some of it with a little practice. All in all, Harry was looking forward to his next adventure in France.


	7. The French

  
Author's notes: Harry's back in Europe.  


* * *

Disclaimer: It's not mine! How many times do I have to tell you?! 

A.N.: Hey again! Harry's back in Europe! How long before someone figures out who he is? Who will it be? Read on! OK, so I have been considering ships for later and I'm debating a triad. (there will never be anything explicit either way.) Opinions? And with no further ado, here we go. Oh, yeah, and I want to apologize in advance, I'm more a Ravenclaw than a Slytherin type, so I'm sorry if my sneakiness and cunning really aren't.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 

Harry stumbled as the port key from Los Angeles International Airport deposited the Greys at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France. Harry was fairly adept at local port keys, however the international ones always left his head spinning. It had been just after breakfast that the Greys had left the US, and it was now just after tea time in Paris. Harry sighed, he hated port key lag. The family went through magical customs, got their passports stamped and hailed a cab to the US ambassador's residence.

When they pulled in to the residence, Harry's breath caught in his throat. The ambassador's residences that they had inhabited in Tokyo and Moscow were large. This was absolutely palatial. The residence was shaped like an 'H', three stories tall with a tan stone exterior. Harry was certain that he'd get lost a few times and determined never to let Lizzy wander off alone or he'd likely never find her again—without magic, anyway.

The family was met at the door by a man who Harry assumed was a butler or some kind of staff to the mansion, he led the family up to the bedrooms so they could get settled in. 

“Merci,” Stephanie said, she was ecstatic to finally be in a country where she could fluently speak the language, “Can you inform the staff that both Harry and Lizzy will be expected to keep their own rooms tidy? And Harry is perfectly capable of making his own bed in the morning as well,” Stephanie shot an overdramatized 'or else' look at Harry, “aren't you, son?”

Harry put on a look of mock offense, “Hey! That was one time! Once! And it was my birthday, shouldn't a boy not have to make his bed on his own birthday? Will I never hear the end of it?”

Marshall laughed, “I doubt it, son, your mother is a Slytherin, remember? They never forget a potential piece of blackmail. Or at least that's what she tells me.”

The butler's lips twitched, “Oui, Madame, I will inform the staff. Will you be needing anything more?” Stephanie shook her head, “Very well, one of the staff shall return to guide you to the dining room at around 7:30, will that be satisfactory?”

Stephanie looked at her watch, that gave them 3 hours to get settled, “Yes, that will do.”

With a nod, the butler retreated back to his duties.

“Ok, kids, you choose your room and get settled in. Tomorrow, Harry, you and I are going to have to go to the Ministère de la Magie to get permission for you to use magic in a specified area. I think that I will probably put a muggle repelling ward on one of the unused hallways and magic will be restricted to behind the ward. Then we're heading to Nice for the weekend before your father officially starts work.”

“Ok, mum.” Harry said, and started down the hall, peeking in each room as he passed. When Harry came to the last door in the hallway, he knew he'd found his room. It was actually a small suite, one wall was a huge fireplace made of tan limestone. In front of the fireplace was a pristine white bear skin rug surrounded by a persian blue sofa, chair and fainting couch each with a fleur de lis stitched in fine gold thread on the backs. The floor was covered in a cream thick pile carpet, while the walls were a very pale shade of yellow and on every available wall space were bookshelves. There were two floor-to-ceiling windows with hangings to match the furniture. Between the windows sat an ornate Louis XV secretary desk and matching chair. On the wall opposite the fireplace was an extravagant dark wood door that led to the bedroom and en suite.

The bedroom was even more perfect, in Harry's opinion. The room was dominated by a huge gilded bed that sat on an elevated platform at one end of the room. The covers, bed hangings and window dressings were emerald green velvet, with bronze accents. The walls were, again, a very pale yellow and the floor was a dark stain hardwood with pale yellow and pale green throw rugs scattered throughout the room. There were windows on two walls of the room that looked out over the back grounds and courtyard. 

On the fourth wall were two doors, the first leading into a mammoth walk in closet with built in drawers and the second leading to the en suite. Where the sitting room and bedroom were light and airy, the bathroom was dark. Black marble countertops and a large black marble tub dominated the room. The floor, in complete contrast was white marble, blood red towels hung from ornate gold towel rods against a snow white wall.

Completely satisfied with his rooms, Harry returned to the closet and placed the few belongings he had with him away. The majority of the family's belongings were being shipped—the mundane way—from Moscow and would be arriving some time in the next few days. Once his things were put away, Harry scurried up onto his soft bed, put on his headphones and turned on the French language tape that his father had gotten him a few months back. Harry wasn't fluent, not yet, but he was determined that he would be.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 

The next morning saw Stephanie and Harry entering the Ministère de la Magie in search of the Abus de Pouvoir Magique. Once they found the office, Stephanie approached the nearest worker and requested to see the head. 

“Monsieur Martineau is in a meeting but will be able to see you in the next ten minutes if you care to wait?” The woman stated, motioning to a row of chairs against the wall. “Whom shall I say is waiting?”

“Stephanie and Harry Grey,” Stephanie said, and she and Harry sat. After 10 minutes they were approached by a portly man with a shock of red hair with a balding patch in the back.

“Madame Grey, I presume?” Stephanie nodded, “I am Henri Martineau, come back into my office.” With that, he turned and led the duo to a nondescript office with a utilitarian desk and chairs. “Now, how can I be of service to you?”

“Monsieur, I wish to begin teaching some magic to my son. We are requesting a waiver for the underage restriction, with the stipulation that he will, of course, never perform magic unmonitored.”

“This is rather unusual, Madame Grey.” 

“I realize that, the circumstances are rather unusual, as well. I did not give your secretary my son's full name. He is Harry Potter-Grey, the English's 'boy-who-lived'.” Monsieur Martineau had an expression of understanding cross his face as his eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, “As such,” Stephanie continued, “he is likely to have as many enemies as fans when he returns to Britain to go to Hogwarts. I would be much more comfortable with this if I knew for a fact that my son could defend himself if necessary. He has completed his muggle schooling through 6th form, which is as far as most muggleborns get prior to starting their magical education. We wish to hire a tutor to allow him to continue his muggle studies as well as beginning his magical ones.”

“That sounds like a very reasonable request. Do you have a location chosen for his studies?”

“Yes, my husband is the muggle ambassador for the United States so we currently reside in the ambassador's mansion. I plan to ward a set of rooms in the family wing with muggle repelling wards to keep the muggle staff away. Harry will, naturally, not be allowed to intentionally use his magic outside that room. Naturally, if he does happen to have an outburst of accidental magic that is a different situation entirely.”

Monsieur Martineau rummaged through a pile of parchment on his desk, finally coming up with what he was looking for. He then grabbed a quill, signed his name and tapped it with his wand making it disappear. “There, it is done. Congratulations, Monsieur Potter-Grey, you are now allowed to use magic in the specified area of your home as long as you are supervised by an of-age witch or wizard.”

Harry grinned, that had been easier than he expected, “Merci, monsieur.”

Stephanie smiled as well, “Come, Harry, we must get home. It is only an hour before our port key leaves for Nice.” She rose and shook hands with Monsieur Martineau and they left, ready for a weekend of relaxation.

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 

An hour later, the Greys found themselves at the wizarding arrival station at the Palais de la Mediterranee. A squib bellhop gathered their things and wheeled them in, leaving the mundanes none the wiser that the family had not arrived by conventional methods. At the front desk, Stephanie was met with the sight of someone she hadn't seen in over a decade. He was dressed in a nice suit—this was a 5-star hotel, after all—his hair was turning prematurely gray and his chocolate brown eyes looked tired and sad. 

Stephanie stopped short, debating how to play off this inevitable meeting. Sighing, she decided there was nothing for it but to scrape up what little Gryffindor had rubbed off from Lily back in school and charge in head first. “Remus?” He looked up and his eyes widened as he recognized her, “Remus Lupin?”

o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o


End file.
